“Finn, I—” God, what do I even say at a time like this?
He turns away and runs a hand down his face. When he turns back, I can see the smear of unshed tears on his cheeks.
“I should get you home,” is all he says before walking out of the barn.
ChapterSeventeen
FINN
Shame doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. Shame at being so reactive, so sensitive, so…
Broken.
Apologies are in order, but somehow, even days later, my brain is still refusing to accept that it’s I who needs to apologize. Every moment that I lie awake staring at the ceiling, my mind drags me back to when the anger first took hold of me, a tightness in my chest that I couldn’t shake. Now, not much has worked to lessen it, only the very rare visit to my dad when my mom has gone out for the day, during which time we sit in silence at the edge of the lake and watch the day go by.
I’ve been calling in sick to work, the constant compulsions making it harder for me to go in to direct a team who know exactly what they are doing anyway. When I’m stressed and anxious, they get worse, and I find myself a blubbering mess who cannot even make it through a sentence without needing to say or do something to temporarily quell the voice in my head.
To sum it up, I’ve gone from being a mess to a goddamn predicament. I thought that maybe if I pushed through and tried to make things real with Oakleigh, I’d see that even flawed people like me are worthy of a normal love life. Dr. Madden has said that he’s returning to work next week anyway, so what the hell. Sure, I’m broken now but I won’t be forever, not when help is only a week away.
But no. The world decided it should show me that my hopes were nothing more than a fantasy. Oakleigh will never lower her worth until it becomes something I am worthy of. I would never let her, even if she wasn’t confident enough to refuse. I thought that I could prove to her that I can raise myself and become the man she deserves, but the man she deserves isn’t someone whose brain gives them a reason to fear everything.
It’s been four days since I’ve seen Oakleigh. Four days since I dropped her home without so much as a see you later. Wren has had enough of my sulking; says that it’s making her entire house grim and gray, and so I need to remove myself so she can—and I quote—“sage my room.”
I decide on my way back to bring her some flowers as an apology for making her safe space become the equivalent of the color gray.
Flowers and Fauna is one of the only florists in Eaglewood, and for good reason. No one can compete. Nigel treats every customer and every flower with a kind of respect that you mostly only hear about nowadays. You can tell that he and his wife, Simone, truly enjoy what they do. The shop itself is decorated to look like you stepped straight into the nicest part of the Amazon. One wall is covered with fake green leaves to match the ceiling. Various flowers sit in metal buckets around the shop, some pre-made bouquets, others singular flowers waiting to be paired with something equally beautiful.
“Ah, Finley, my boy,” Nigel says from behind the counter. He’s never called me Finn. Not once. I think he can tell that I’ve always secretly preferred Finley. “How is the man in love?”
I try to hide my pain with a chuckle, but it comes out darker than I wanted it to. Nigel must notice, because he pauses putting together his bouquet to look up at me.
“Did something happen?” he asks, genuinely concerned.
I let my shoulders raise and drop. “Kind of.”
He removes his hands from the flowers entirely, the bow he was halfway through making slipping and undoing itself.
“What is it?”
I lightly play with some purple flowers in the bucket closest to me. “I made a fool of myself, all because I’m an insecure idiot who doesn’t think before he acts.”
Nigel bites his lip as he thinks about it. The skin around his face has loosened more over the past few months. He looks even older than his seventy-odd years and I fear it’s from overworking.
“I think this calls for a sit down, don’t you?”
“Oh, no, I’ve caught you in the middle of something. Why don’t I just help you out instead? I won’t be responsible for you being behind. Simone would have my head.”
“That she would,” he chuckles. He beckons me over and shoves the bouquet toward me. “How are you with bows?”
I get to work tying the bow and once I have Nigel’s approval, I wait until he’s finished the next bouquet to start talking.
“Stupid stuff. Oakleigh mentioned my OCD and I just flipped out. Told her that I’m not hers to fix and I shouldn’t be some sort of project to her. I told her that I know I’m broken but maybe someone should try and ask me if I actually like being that way.”
“Hmm.” Nigel ponders on my words as he expertly puts together another bouquet. “Did something happen before this incident to make it such a sensitive subject? You’re not usually so sensitive about it.”
He’s right, I’m not. The reason Nigel knows is because I had a compulsion while I was in the store one day, looking for flowers for my mom and sister. I explained to him, even though he made sure to let me know that I never needed to explain. That was months ago and to this day, Nigel has never judged nor assumed anything.
“It’s been…harder to deal with since my therapist went on leave. It almost feels as if the moment I stopped seeing him, I just forgot about everything I worked through.” Nigel hums as he listens, and I continue. “For some reason, hearing Oakleigh talk about curing my OCD and taking meds made me just lash out. I think it reminded me that she doesn’t deserve someone like me.”
